We Can Have It All
by Allexurath
Summary: Merlin's secret is eating away at him, and he struggles to comfort Morgana's horror at her discovery of her own magic. Mordred shows up in the middle of it and there's a whole lot of running involved. Rated A for Adventure.
1. Chapter 1 Can We?

**Hey this is a really short prologue to what I hope will be a full blown story provided I don't get lazy and bogged down with Work :O **

**I think I'm supposed to say I don't own Merlin and stuff, but that's kind of obvious right?**

"I think... I have magic" she said.

They were standing together in Gaius's room, Morgana slightly leaning in towards Merlin, her eyes wide open, half willing him to believe her, half challenging him to disagree.

He was frozen, looking into her fathomless green eyes, her mouth parted slightly, sensing that every fibre of her being was focusing on him, that he was the first person she had mentioned magic to...He almost broke down and confessed his own sorcery.

But the Dragon's voice echoed in his ears, "The Witch must not know the full extent of her powers"

But could he really call this beautiful and strong woman-now reduced to an emotionally frail girl begging for help, could he really call her a witch?

Gently, he collected the tips of her fingers in his warm hands, and soothingly massaged them. His own cobalt blue eyes staring into hers, he let his words flow out of him and gently break on her shore... "Morgana. I believe you" he said simply. Her relief was evident, she shuddered, holding back tears, and all she could do was whisper a broken thank you to Merlin before running back to her own chambers.

Merlin sat down on the nearby bench, still feeling Morgana's cold fingertips on his own, how in the midst of her fear, she still smelled as fresh and cool as mint leaves... She had magic. He longed to share his with her, to teach her magic and then to learn magic together!

"Merlin! Did I not leave you with work? All I asked was for you to add the thyme leaves to my remedy for curing headaches!"

Merlin gaped at Gaius as he strode in with his perpetually raised eyebrow. Gaping was a look he had perfected; it was helpful to look like a forgivable idiot rather than someone who might know something.

Or be a sorcerer.

Merlin grinned and started his work till Gaius left the room, muttering something about a herb. Then he sat down and collected his thoughts about Morgana.

Where was he? Oh yes, teaching her magic...

And then he heard the voice. It was within him, resounding in his head, evoking strong memories of not so long ago, the first time he expressly ignored the Dragon's advice...

"Emrys " it called...

**Even though it's Merlin/Morgana it'll take a long time to come to that, it may seem that Merlin is attracted to her in this but he's only attracted to her MAGIC. I want Mordred to feature heavily in this, somehow, and the druids and forests and ADVENTURE! A review with criticisms and y'know, fangirl/boying would be WHOLLY welcome and I will reply to everyone! Peace out! **


	2. Chapter 2 Can You?

**Sorry for the delay, I have to bring up the obvious excuse of school, and admit with shame that I am a bag of lazy bones. Thanks for the reviews and the *adds to favourite* and just the general interest :) Hope you enjoy Morgana's POV!**

Her footsteps ringing in the corridors, dodging guards left and right, the edge of her skirt snagging on vases and pots, Morgana was hurrying to her room with such agitation that the racket she made preceded her presence, and the people of the court of Camelot wondered at it, complained of it and were alarmed.

Some called out her name as she passed but she didn't stop until she crashed into her King.

"Morgana! What is the meaning of this?" Uther intoned.

She stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed. "Uh..Um, I had a nightmare, my lord" she stumbled.

"And how was it different from the ones you usually have?" there was a hint of compassion, not annoyance in his words so she decided to play on that.

"My father. I dreamt he was alive, and he and I were riding by the cold sea, I could feel the wind whipping my hair and chilling my bones. But I looked at my father and he made my heart warm. "Here her lip trembled. "Then I saw a legion of soldiers, all heading for my father. He waved me away; he sent my horse running to safety. I screamed at him but he did nothing but stand his ground and I watched as the wave of soldiers pushed him into to the sea, onto the rocks" she broke into a sob, for this was no lie, but a nightmare of her youth.

Surrounded as she was by dark dreams of her dead father and the underlying dread of having magic, she was surprised and comforted when Uther stretched his arms around to envelop her in a caring hug.

"He protected you Morgana, as I will protect you from all danger"

'_Can you protect me from myself_?' She thought.

Releasing her and propelling her towards her quarters Uther advised her to "Rest, child". Morgana smiled, nervously, and complied. Her heart was now somewhat calmed, her agitation - the effect of Merlin's words - had subsided but it was her mind that was now racing.

She had magic.

The dreaded Uther Pendragon, tireless opposer of Magic, had a witch in his care.

She had reached her door. Exhaling with relief, she opened it.

Her chest heaving with silent emotion, her eyes brushed over her chamber, her only refuge, and she was a Witch. She could not get rid of the word, though Merlin had not even suggested it to her.

Merlin.

She blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend the staggering thought it her mind...

She now called herself a witch, and was utterly terrified because... Merlin, a servant boy from an outlying village, thought she had magic?

But no, she reminded herself. She thought she herself had magic, had forced him to agree or disagree, and he had merely believed her.

That counted for something.

She remembered his eyes burning into hers as he uttered those simple but profound words "I believe you"

He believed that she had Magic.

Magic.

Why could she not get away from that word?

Trying to compose herself, she fell towards an old comforter – tears on a pillow. Her muffled sobs spoke of pain and doubt, and a strange feeling of a loss. Loss of what resulting in how much pain, she did not know, all she knew for sure was that the gnawing fear in her stomach would not fade for a long long time.

**Mordred's coming in soon, don't you worry **


End file.
